


You Can't Go Home Again

by zarduhasselfrau



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 50 percent accidentally falling in love with your friend, 50 percent resettling and rebuilding on earth, Infinity War? I don't know her, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarduhasselfrau/pseuds/zarduhasselfrau
Summary: Aurora Borealis (noun): a natural electrical phenomenon characterized by the appearance of streamers of reddish or greenish light in the sky, usually near the northern or southern magnetic pole.New Asgard takes fragments and builds them into something new. So do Thor and Bruce.





	You Can't Go Home Again

_“You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to romantic love, back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame, back home to exile, to escape to Europe and some foreign land, back home to lyricism, to singing just for singing's sake, back home to aestheticism, to one's youthful idea of 'the artist' and the all-sufficiency of 'art' and 'beauty' and 'love,' back home to the ivory tower, back home to places in the country, to the cottage in Bermude, away from all the strife and conflict of the world, back home to the father you have lost and have been looking for, back home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden for you, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time--back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.” – Thomas Wolfe_

###### 

The first time the night sky lights up there is panic on the streets (well, the blank, snowy expanse) of New Asgard.

The terrified crowd parts smoothly and automatically to allow Thor and his inner circle to pass. Thor pointedly keeps his face as neutral as possible, though he had practically come running at the sound of screams. He marches with purpose but not urgency. One of his hands stands ready with the axe and the other is loose and relaxed at his side. It’s an impressive façade. All three of the ex-revengers were with him when the shouting started. Bruce _saw_ him panic at the sounds of yet more Asgardian screams but even he’s tricked into believing, momentarily, that Thor is entirely calm. The murmuring and whispering dies down as he passes and then stays down. Whether he makes everybody feel safer or they trust him to deal with it, Thor doesn’t even have to look around or speak to quiet the crowd. All eyes are drawn down from the sky to look at him. He has the commanding, reassuring presence of a leader. Bruce wonders if that’s effortless, something he’s been trained for since birth, or extremely hard work for the goofball he knows personally. Maybe it’s both. Maybe Thor is a walking contradiction between a plan and a reality, what he must be and what he is. That’s probably what being a leader is, and why Bruce has never wanted to do any leading thank you very much. He has to control himself enough as it is, keeping control for other people isn’t something he wants to take up. Following Thor as he breaks through a crowd, like he’s a deceptively gentle riptide Bruce is caught in, is much easier. 

Heimdall is waiting at the front of the crowd, he looks down from the sky to the approaching ex-revengers without a hint of surprise or fear. He nods at Thor, Thor nods at him and they both turn to the sky again.

“It started a few minutes ago,” Heimdall says quietly. Bruce still can’t see what everyone is panicking about, but he squints up at the sky some more anyway. There's something there, but it's incredibly faint.

“The sky’s burning, as you can see,” Korg interrupts with that calm statement. He steps in from nowhere and nods at the sky sagely, like he’s omnipotent or something. In his hasty entrance, with his eyes pointed skyward, he knocks into Loki. “Oh, sorry ghost,” he says, and pats Loki on the back hard enough to send his hair flying into his eyes. 

“The sky is not burning you dumb… rock,” Loki hisses as he indignantly brushes his hair back behind his shoulders. Bruce isn’t looking at them because he’s focused on the sky. It’s not burning, but he’s not going to agree with Loki in public. He has a reputation to uphold. Brunnhilde stays quiet too, though Bruce can see her rolling her eyes.

“Oh well that’s just rude that is,” Korg huffs, like the entire population of Asgard isn’t being held back from pandemonium solely by the barricade of Thor’s self-control. “Uh, Thor?” Thor is still staring at the sky, but that’s not enough to deter him. “Should we get back on the ship then? Third home’s the charm?” Thor is silent, but Bruce sees his shoulders tense up and he remembers more than one conversation where Thor’s referred to himself and his family as a curse.

“Thor,” Bruce says quietly. He steps forward but before he can reach for Thor’s shoulder (or bicep, he’s stupidly tall) his brain switches on and reminds him you don’t publicly comfort a King. Probably. Bruce has met two Kings in the space of a year or so after a lifetime of meeting zero. They’re both averse to conventional rules but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Banner,” Thor’s voice is cautiously warm against the cold night and he turns to Bruce with that searching look. “You’re our native. What’s the meaning of these colours in the sky?” He gestures upwards. Bruce pushes his glasses up and – oh. 

“What, you mean the aurora borealis?” Bruce asks, a little too loudly. It's there but it's very, very faint. He wouldn't have even noticed it if he hadn't been looking for colours. Maybe Asgardians just have better eyesight? Thor blinks at him, Heimdall tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, and a ripple of confused whispering passes through the crowd. “You know, the Northern Lights?” He tries and then instantly regrets his stupid, idiotic, thoughtless mouth. Thor blinks harder and it feels like the entirety of Asgard is staring at him in confused yet judgmental silence. “Right you, uh, you wouldn’t.”

“Seeing as we all lived in other realms and galaxies that did not obey your scientific laws, where most phenomena have different names… no.” Heimdall could cut anyone to the bone with words alone.

“I kind of assumed they were one of the reasons you guys chose this place. Lights in the sky gives an ‘Asgard’ vibe to me. It’s pretty magical.” Bruce shrugs, internally screaming at himself as he trips over his words.

“Magical?” There's dangerous excitement in Loki’s voice.

“Well, I mean, it’s not _magic_ ,” Bruce stresses without turning around. Thor is still staring at him and listening intently and that’s all the encouragement he needs to launch into an explanation. “It happens when charged particles from the sun react with-” Brunnhilde fakes a loud yawn.

“Not the science,” she groans like they’re in a classroom rather than outside trying to convince an entire population that the sky isn’t falling. Unfortunately, he can’t exactly tell her to shut up. He likes his head attached to his neck.

“Magic,” Loki insists, nodding too eagerly for this to mean anything but trouble.

“You did say it was magical,” Korg agrees.

“Not magic,” Bruce snaps a little and looks back over his shoulder at them. He can feel Thor getting frustrated with the four of them and hear the crowd muttering again, but he can’t stop himself.

“Magic and science are siblings,” Loki argues smoothly and smugly. 

“Magic ever stab science?” Brunnhilde mutters and Loki turns on her with a frown. She meets him scowl for scowl.

“Enough,” Thor sighs, shaking his head. Brunnhilde and Loki huff but look away from each other immediately. Unfortunately, they both decide to look at Bruce. Everyone is looking at Bruce actually, and now he’s noticed it he can’t un-notice it. “Banner, what they are and why they are there doesn’t matter right now. They’re supposed to be there, yes? This is perfectly natural for your planet?” 

“Yes,” Bruce is almost embarrassed to respond to that so plainly. “Earth does that naturally.” Normally when people listen to him expectantly he’s supposed to be talking about something that will take half an hour just to explain. Thor’s shoulders visibly slump as he drops the weight of leadership in a crisis from them.

“Alright, Little Guy says it’s clear!” Brunnhilde raises her voice – she’s practically shouting so everyone can hear her - and turns to the assembled crowd. Bruce’s eyes clench shut and he holds back a sigh at the nickname. “It’s supposed to be freaky colours. Everybody calm down.” 

“Shoo,” Loki agrees and makes the same motion with his hand. There’s a lot of muttering and frantic whispering. The crowd doesn’t disperse much but a few people do slink away from the edges. Maybe they’re going to find somewhere quieter to watch the lights, maybe they’re just going back to sleep. The majority of the crowd, however, stays put to either stare up at the sky or watch the ragtag leadership. (None of them but Thor and Heimdall should probably be put in charge of more than a group of seven, but they’re doing their best.) 

Heimdall looks Thor over for a moment with concern and Thor nods almost imperceptibly at him. The crowd might admire the other four of them as protectors but it’s Heimdall they listen to; probably because he’s the only person in New Asgard’s leadership practiced and at ease with being a responsible adult. When he sets about to disperse the tightly packed in people it doesn’t take long for the ‘streets’ to clear. Most people stay out to admire the lights, but they don’t clump together in a frightened herd anymore and Bruce can hear much more appreciative comments now they know the colours aren’t some terrible omen or weapon. A few children linger, instinctively sticking close to the heroes of their galactic journey. Bruce looks for their parents for a moment before realising with a sick pang why he can’t see any, and why they’re staying with the nearest authority figures they can find. Heimdall wordlessly directs them back to the ship like he’s the next Supernanny. Various adults meet him halfway and collect the children. They’re all very obviously not related, but maybe that doesn’t matter. Collective responsibility, it takes a village, etcetera. Bruce is well-versed in the complex world of being a child without a trustworthy parent around. 

“It looks like the Bifrost.” There’s such wonder in the voice of the child Heimdall is gently shepherding away from her heroes. Heimdall closes his eyes for a moment and Bruce can’t tell if he’s Looking for something, or if he’s just slightly pained by the comparison.

“I know child,” he says softly. “It is good to see echoes of what we had, but the Bifrost is gone.” With that, so are Heimdall and the child. Korg wanders off too, calling for Miek.

“Well this has been terribly entertaining,” says Loki in the most bored, flat voice Bruce has ever heard from him. “But if you’ll excuse me, I believe we were about to go to bed.” 

“His Majesty didn’t adjourn the meeting,” Brunnhilde points out. As usual, she makes ‘His Majesty’ sound like it has any meaning _except_ ‘His Majesty’. Saussure would have a field day with how she plays with signifiers. The three of them look to Thor expectantly for some sort of response… but he’s still staring up at the sky. They glance at each other again, equally at a loss for what to do. Finally, Brunnhilde sighs and steps forward. “Thor,” She puts a hand on his shoulder and practically drags him around to look at them. He looks a little startled, eyes flicking rapidly between all three of them and occasionally back up to the sky. Even Loki frowns with slight concern as Brunnhilde gives Thor a little shake. “You okay?” she asks him. There is another long pause that awkwardly comes to an end when Thor meets Bruce’s eyes.

“I suppose it will take… some adjustment,” Thor murmurs before walking past the three of them in the direction of the ship. He walks slowly but with enough purpose that none of them try to stop him. Or at least, it doesn’t occur to them that they could stop him until he’s almost faded into the rest of the Asgardians. 

“… Is he that disturbed by some colours in the sky?” Loki wonders while they’re all frowning after him.

### 

Since the moment the ship touched down, there have been things that need doing. A lot of things that need doing. So many things that need doing that they don’t have enough paper to write it all down on. It never ends. The Aurora Borealis Misunderstanding, which really needs a catchier name, is almost a minor detail that distracted them from one late night ‘council meeting’. There’s no time to stop and dwell on it. There are world governments in almost constant contact, despite being told several times New Asgard simply wishes to be left alone. There is infrastructure to build, pipes to lay, people to feed, shelter, and provide medical care for, and power of course needs to be provided. The one time the sky seemed like it might fall is a tiny blip on a radar between securing a water source and meeting with an extremely persistent ambassador. 

Luckily there are specialists among them, and there’s not one person who isn’t willing to pitch in or learn a new skill. Sharing out duties and tasks is fairly simple. It’s hardly luxury, not really even comfort, but needs are met and they’re surviving. (Bruce has a somewhat special need, seeing as he can’t withstand the cold the way everyone else on the ship can, but that’s dealt with too. People light controlled fires especially for him, Thor keeps throwing layers at him, Brunnhilde tells him to “get over it, Big Guy liked the cold” and it turns out that Hulk does like the freezing north. Though apparently, he still complains.) 

The ‘council’ though… they never sleep. Their talents are always needed somewhere. It’s busy work, believe it or not, building an entire population’s new home from the ground up. Fortunately, Bruce needs downtime to think about everything that’s happened to him like he needs a hole in the head. Keeping busy is exactly what he wants, and it’s what a lot of others seem to want too. There’s no obligation for him to stay with them, but he decided a long time ago that he would.

His specialization is a little complex. He mostly works on blueprints. Compromising with the more experienced architects between design and practicality, advising on the materials that are common on Earth and the materials that essentially don’t exist yet. The more exciting stuff is when he’s trying to get Asgardian tech to work again with the surviving scientists, sometimes re-developing said tech to work with Earth’s more readily available materials, sometimes inventing as they go along. 

Thor shows up to provide some energy sometimes (literally, his powers are a blessing) and it’s honestly one of the highlights of the work. He always ends up asking questions about the project and then Bruce gets to ramble as much as he wants about all things science. Thor will _stop_ for a minute – that itself is a miracle these days - and just sit down and listen like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard, every time. Even though that certainly isn’t true, and he has countless more important things to be doing. The best part isn’t even that someone is happy to listen to him ramble about his passion, without telling him to calm down or looking terrified the Hulk might burst out any minute, it’s that Thor _responds_ and they can actually have a conversation about it. Just getting Thor’s undivided attention is a rare luxury for anyone these days, never mind having an in-depth conversation with him.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about this since the devil’s anus and I gotta know,” Bruce finally says one day after Thor has actually solved one of their project’s roadblocks like it’s a Sunday crossword. Thor tilts his head and smiles obliging in a silent ‘go ahead’. He’s still sitting at the centre counter of the room and leaning on one arm, swinging his legs back and forth beneath the stool because he’s incapable of staying still. The rest of the team are darting around with wires and putting his suggestion into practice with their usual effectiveness. They can be left to get on with it, Bruce has never worked with such a productive team. So he leans against the counter, shaking his head at Thor as he tries to puzzle this out for himself before he asks this ridiculously blunt question. “How did you play dumb for so long? With the avengers I mean?” It comes out anyway, because Bruce’s mouth has had a vendetta against him since his first word. Thor frowns, sitting up a little straighter.

“I never played dumb,” he says, folding his arms briefly before relaxing them again as his frown fades. Almost like he’s re-assessed the situation, he goes from defensive to relaxed in a moment. “People assumed I was dumb and I never saw the point in correcting them.” There’s something Loki-ish about the playful look in his eyes, which ought to be disturbing but isn’t because it’s such a relief that he’s not mad. Did Thor get a kick out of tricking them all? “What was there to prove? I grew up in a realm with creations and knowledge to put any of Stark’s toys to shame. What would have been incredibly advanced to you was in my mid-level science lessons. I was confident in my own knowledge. If people wanted to believe I was stupid because I was strong, talked differently, and didn’t know earth’s stories - like the wizard of oz - they could.” He shrugs.

“Huh,” Bruce says, staring off into the distance. Even though Thor seems amused, not annoyed, Bruce still feels kind of small right now. “I never thought about it like that.” Thor nods in understanding and for a moment there’s an awkward silence. The urge to apologise is prodding Bruce insistently in the side but where would that conversation even lead? An even more awkward silence? Thor getting annoyed or upset? Bruce isn’t one for confronting any topic that might leave him stuttering or, god forbid, actually vulnerable or in danger of being wrong. It’s not a position he likes to be in, nor is it a position he feels safe in. (Granted, he never feels safe and Thor makes him feel more comfortable than most people can.) So instead he says the first thing that comes into his head. “It really was cool when you learned about the wizard of oz though.” He tries to glare at his own mouth despite the impossible angle. To his surprise, Thor laughs and reaches out to pat (slap, but Thor holds himself back) his arm.

“What was it Barton said? That I should try throwing water on Loki?” And now they’re both smiling. Bruce shakes his head and sighs.

“The good old days.” He doesn’t really mean it. They weren’t good old days. They were actually stressful, busy, and usually full of danger. None of them had gotten along as well as they’d wanted to, and no matter what they said everyone was still wary of Hulk. What the avengers got up to during his two-year blank says a lot about the quiet background tension they never could shake. No, they definitely weren’t the good old days… but they weren’t the bad old days either. Things weren’t perfect, but they were simple. Painfully simple compared to what life is now. Fighting off Loki and an army was easier to process than fleeting, foggy memories of a universe full of dust and empty space.

“Yes…” Thor murmurs. Now Bruce feels like an ass because for Thor those probably were the good old days. When his family was still somewhat intact and Asgard was thriving. 

“Hey,” he scrambles for something else to say and, miraculously, doesn’t let that show in his voice. “Uh, your vocabulary has been… different since I woke up from Hulk Coma. More… modern. Did you pick that up from Earth, or traveling, or did you put that whole ‘hark, forsooth’ thing on just to mess with us?” Thor tries to hide a smirk but does it poorly.

“Both,” he admits. “It was my natural way of talking… at first. On Asgard it was expected of me. Eventually I began to pick up more casual speech, but it _was_ fun to see everyone react to my royal voice.” Bruce smiles in-spite of the fact that he’s definitely the butt of the joke here.

“Like that time you asked Tony to pass coffee and it took him five minutes to process it.” They’re laughing again, crisis averted, and Thor is definitely distracted. It occurs to him, talking about how things used to be, that he and Thor had barely talked while the avengers had been a thing. It’s only since their reunion that Bruce has realised what a shameful waste that was. All that time spent keeping a respectful ‘work friend’ distance from each other – except for when the Hulk initiated whatever dumb strength-based rivalry he seemed to have with Thor - and now it turns out they get on really well. A sigh, unchecked only because he’s so deep in thought, rises from his chest.

“What’s the matter?” Thor asks with a slight quirk of his lips. “Was I that infuriating to talk to back then?” He’s joking, but it cuts a little too close to Bruce’s actual train of thought. He shakes his head a little too violently and takes off his glasses, because he needs something to fiddle with so he doesn’t have to look at Thor. Like he’s already gone over once today, apologies and awkward subjects are still not his strong point. Avoidance is more his style. But apparently something about Thor makes him bolder, calms a deep-set childhood terror of being punished or mocked for getting something wrong. Or maybe it’s just that Thor is a good person who has suffered enough, and righting any wrongs done to him is more important than Bruce’s feelings. Either way, the memories and Thor’s comment tips him over the edge. Urge To Apologise is suddenly larger and more pressing than Fear Of Reprobation.

“No, no man you were great to talk to I just never realised it.” He’s staring down at the glasses but he’s pretty sure he can still see Thor shifting. Confusion maybe? Annoyance, probably. “And…. Y’know, I’m sorry about that. I should have talked to you more or, I don’t know, tried to get to know you.” He offers a small shrug. “I feel like, of all the avengers and all the relationships we all had, you and I knew each other the least. Which sucks because now we’ve actually talked I get on better with you than I do with most people...” His terrible explanation trails off when he sees Thor – or at least the slightly blurry shape of Thor’s arm – reach out and pluck his glasses from his hand. He looks up, about to complain or protest or something, but then Thor is gently sliding the glasses back onto his face. Gradually, Thor comes into focus. He’s smiling, a brightly shining welcome back to the world of the seeing.

“It wasn’t just you,” Thor says softly. Bruce reaches up to adjust the glasses, so they won’t slide off his face, and Thor lets go of them. His thumb accidentally brushes Bruce’s cheek for a moment, but Thor is a very physically affectionate person, so Bruce thinks nothing of it. (Bruce is not as big a fan of touching, but something about Thor’s openness makes him more inclined to it with him than he is with other people.) “We were both idiots. I’m just as at fault for ignoring you.” Bruce has never been an idiot thank you very much, but he swallows that pride and makes a mental note to mention all his degrees again later. “But you were so small, and the Hulk didn’t like me.” He sounds so petulant about the Hulk’s opinion of him that it’s all Bruce can do not to laugh.

“Hulk didn’t like anyone because he was only out to fight. Hulk didn’t like me! At least you didn’t have him in your head providing semi-constant opinions on what he could smash.” Thor laughs, but Bruce stops short. “Wait… small? Really?” Thor frowns, and leans a little closer to him.

“Banner.” Even though he’s sitting and Bruce is standing, they’re pretty much at equal height. Thor raises an eyebrow and Bruce sighs.

“Point taken, but I don’t see how that stopped you talking to me.”

“It just didn’t look like we’d have anything in common,” Thor admits (not leaning back from him, Bruce can’t help but note). “The same way you didn’t think we’d have anything in common because I was big and didn’t talk about physics a lot.” 

“Right.” Bruce flushes.

“And, to be fair Banner, we probably _didn’t_ have anything in common. We both changed a lot between Ultron and the arena, and then we had a big bonding adventure.” He very, very lightly punches Bruce’s shoulder. It’s more like a tap with a fist than a punch. “Maybe we just weren’t ready to be friends yet.” Bruce ponders this for a moment. Thor has a point. He’s more mature, more responsible, partly because recent events have forced him to be, and more importantly _Bruce_ is more at ease with himself. It wasn’t so much that he and Thor had avoided each other, now he thinks about it, it was more like Bruce avoided all the avengers. He had, had the weakest relationship with all of them, not just Thor, because he couldn’t allow himself to relax around them. Even ‘opening up’ to Natasha had been like punching through drywall with no idea what was on the other side. Getting more in touch with Hulk and both of their feelings about this time-share of a body situation, exhaustion from seeing the end of the goddamn world, actually being appreciated and not used by people, all of this has contributed to putting Bruce slightly more at ease with himself and others. 

“Well… I’m glad we’re ready now,” Bruce offers with a smile, and he means it. Hell knows where he’d be right now without Thor. Thor smiles back. It’s a real smile, not the amicable one that doesn’t reach his eyes that he usually wears these days. 

It occurs to Bruce, much later while it’s dark out and he’s still huddled over wires and screws, that Thor does that a lot when they talk.

### 

At some point, post Aurora Borealis Misunderstanding, he goes to ask the last Valkyrie about some of her own tech. He’s hoping to soup it up, give her a new weapon to play with. It’s easier to think about one problem when he’s messing around with another less serious one. Giving her some extra firepower might just help him figure out how the hell they’re going to build the central communal building onto, _over_ , and around The Statesman.

“I’m busy here Little Guy,” she says, and to be fair she is balancing with one leg on a raised stone, holding a spear. A small but determined squad stands to the left of her, copying her posture as best they can. Brunnhilde is trying to assemble some sort of defence force. Thor has seen too much disaster and loss to even try to argue that a bare bones force isn’t a necessity, and Bruce is thankful for that. He knows from experience a lot of governments aren’t going to be thrilled about this mass-settling. Even if it is on unused, isolated land that they were traded in exchange for some technology they really shouldn’t have had to hand over to inexperienced- _Calm. Shhh. No Hulk, only Banner getting mad enough about old feuds with Nobel Prize winning scientists to make people wish the Hulk was there instead_. Humans can be cruel, that’s what Bruce is getting at.

“Can I just take it and get it back to you?” Bruce tries. He’s already feeling the sharp bite of the cold despite his layers. In response she hurls the spear and it slams into a tree. Her recruits are not so lucky, there’s a lot of shouting and some mixed results. Most of the spears land in the ground inches away from the stones, one makes it halfway to the tree, and one goes soaring over it and is lost in the distance. Brunnhilde sighs. “I’ll just… come back then,” Bruce says, taking several meek and awkward steps back.

“Nah, hang on. Kind of useless without its chip but see what you can do.” She tosses him a bracelet and then sighs. Running a hand over her face, and looking at the squad rather than at him, she mutters, “Maybe swords…. Or I introduce the energy weapons and guns early…” before suddenly breaking out in a smirk. “Don’t suppose Hulk wants to try out? I miss him.” 

“Probably, but I’ve got work to do,” Bruce manages to get out without shivering. That at least gets a laugh out of her. “Speaking of work, have you seen Thor?”

“Pretty sure he was with Heimdall,” she says in a voice that sounds certain rather than pretty sure. “Over by water treatment.” Well, that’s not a surprise. Bruce thanks her and hurries off, because he knows Thor is rarely in one place for more than twenty minutes these days. 

It’s satisfying and overwhelming at the same time to walk through the first hazy outlines of what will eventually be New Asgard. On the one hand, there’s so much to do. They haven’t even constructed one building yet. On the other hand, they’ve already done so much: laying pipes and groundwork for one. He’s been destroying and fighting, willfully and accidentally, for so long. Never creating, unless you count a murder-bot. Never staying in one place long enough to create. It feels so good to be building something here, to be helping people with his brain and not borrowed muscles. Even if it is freezing… really, genuinely, bone-achingly freezing…

Bruce speeds up to almost a brisk march.

Heimdall is still at the water treatment site, their most successful project so far. It’s a little far from the ship, not too far but far enough, next to the pump that leads deep underground. The journey there is a nuisance but it’s safely out of the way of the planned construction and everybody except Bruce barely feels the cold on the walk. There’s no blonde hair in sight but Bruce doesn’t doubt that he’ll know where to find Thor. Heimdall knows… a lot. He’s really the only person who truly understands every detail that governing entails, so he’s usually answering twenty questions at once from the rest of the council. He’s also the person who organizes a lot of things like shifts in construction or group therapy. Furthermore, nobody on the council is as diplomatic as him, so he checks Thor’s wording before they send out responses to nosy governments. It’s hard to truly sum up what Heimdall does, he’s just… always there, and always involved. It’s hard to imagine New Asgard getting off the ground without him. Bruce tries not to think about that scenario, because it brings back uncomfortable flashes of a world that simultaneously was and never was.

“He was here,” Heimdall murmurs distractedly when asked, because he’s trying to supervise final adjustments to water treatment. He’s busy. They all are. “He provided a quick charge for testing, carried some materials, and then I turned my back and he was gone again.” It’s not surprising. Thor is basically a squirrel these days. He jumps between tasks as soon as he sees anyone that needs help, rarely staying still for more than five minutes. Heimdall looks away from the crew building a shelter over water treatment, away from Bruce, and closes his eyes… Nothing about the physical world changes, but when things are quiet - like right now - Bruce swears he can feel when Heimdall Looks. “Korg,” He murmurs after a short pause, a little dazed because using that power takes a lot out of him now Asgard is gone.

“Korg?” Bruce tries to keep the edge of ‘please say something more helpful’ out of his voice. Heimdall gives him an unimpressed look.

“Thor is with the construction crew.” Right. Korg and Miek are not actually on the council, but they insist they are and it was unanimously decided that it was easier to just accept the help than try to argue with them. They’re good at construction, because being made of rocks makes Korg the fourth most sturdy person in the entire population. 

It's not that long a walk to the ‘power hut’ they’re building. Thor’s electricity is convenient but very temporary, and it’s not really… _right_ to use your leader as a glorified battery. Using power from the ship works for now but eventually that will cause problems too. So they’re working on some generators and a shelter (hut) to keep them in. It’s the only thing in construction beside the water treatment ‘plant’ right now, and Bruce can just about see it through the slightly tamed landscape. It’s pretty close to the ship, almost right next to it actually. He’d be walking that way anyway. So the only explanation for the dread he feels at the prospect of walking there is that the cold wind is really picking up. He hadn’t planned to be out this long, if he had he would have put on another layer. The cold is starting to get to him. Not that you’d know it’s cold from looking at Heimdall, who is actually frowning at him now.

“Are you alright?” he asks. Bruce nods with as much enthusiasm and as little shivering as he can muster.

“Peachy. Thanks Heimdall!” He makes a quick escape before another Asgardian can baby him about the cold weather. (He swears he hears Heimdall mutter ‘peachy?’ to himself as he’s leaving.)

He’s freezing by the time he gets back to the shadow of The Statesman. Not quite literally but judging by how hard it’s getting to trudge, it might be headed that way. He tries to hold back the shivers, but as he gets closer to the half-built shed he opens his mouth to say hello and all he manages is some teeth-chattering.

“You don’t look so good,” Korg, as usual, doesn’t beat around the bush. Miek says something that… _sort of_ sounds like agreement. Bruce ignores them both, focused on his main goal. There’s blonde hair peeking over the top of the generator and with a grunt Thor pops up from behind it. 

“Who doesn’t look so- Banner!” Thor cuts himself off with an almost panicked shout.

“H-h-h-hi,” Bruce manages to get out. “We n-n-n-need-” But he doesn’t get another shivering syllable out, because Thor all but runs out of the half-built room, taking off his cape with impressive coordination as he moves. He grabs a large piece of wood from the construction pile as he passes it, and with his free hand wraps his cape around Bruce’s shoulders. “H-hey!” Bruce fights to complain around shivers. Thor frowns at him and, one hand clutching his layers and the cape, he practically drags Bruce back toward the ship.

“Bye Hulk!” Korg calls after them, apparently totally unaffected by Thor’s behaviour.

Thor marches him into the ship like the hand clutching at him is a gun. (In fairness, Thor’s hand technically IS a weapon.) People have to scatter out of their way, or rather Thor’s way. Bruce has no say in where they’re going. Thor doesn’t pause except to wait for the door to his room to open, and then he throws the wood inside, pushes Bruce behind him, and does something with his hands Bruce can’t see. There’s a crack of lightning, a bang, and then Bruce is being shoved into a room that’s starting to smell of smoke.

“Thor what the hell?!” he finally manages to get out, after Thor has sat him down in front of the burning wood. “What’s wrong with you?!” His voice wavers slightly, gets a little… green. Thor rolls his eyes and raises his hand instinctively to wipe at green veins that Bruce can’t see. Normally he’s fairly gentle but here and now it’s like he’s trying to clean stubborn dirt. 

“I should be asking you the same question!” Thor snaps. He sits down beside Bruce and tugs the cape tighter around him, despite Bruce’s best attempts to shrug it off. Bruce frowns at him and Thor glares back. Despite the glaring, the hand not holding his cape in place begins to rub Bruce’s hands (which have only gone _slightly_ numb and don’t need that much help with circulation thank you very much). “You could have frozen to death, why weren’t you wearing thicker layers?”

“Well I didn’t think I’d be out there that long!” Bruce snaps right back, pulling his hands away from Thor petulantly. “I was looking for you, it’s not my fault you can’t stay in one place for five minutes.” Thor’s glare breaks, and his face falls. He looks devastated and the hands that were rough and decisive suddenly become hesitant. The cape slides off Bruce’s shoulders when Thor’s grip falters.

“This is.... my fault?” he asks, and Bruce can’t understand why he looks so crushed. “I’m sorry Banner, I’m-”

“Thor.” Bruce reaches out for his shoulders, because somebody has to snap him out of whatever he’s spiraling into. “Why. Are you. Being. So. Weird?” Thor’s mismatched eyes blink back at him for a moment, and Bruce sighs. “Come on man, I’m fine. Look at me, I’m fine. I’m already warming up just from being inside the ship. This,” he gestures at the cape and the plank of wood that was dramatically set alight, “is just unnecessary.” Thor looks away from his gaze and twists out of Bruce’s grip to face the fire. “What’s this about? Talk to me, come on.” 

“I just… don’t want to lose anyone else,” Thor mutters, leaning back on his hands and staring at the fire like it’s the most fascinating thing in the room. “Is that an acceptable reason to worry Banner?” He says, snippy and frustrated. 

“Oh.” Bruce turns to look at the fire too, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right.” Because he can see it in context now. Everyone and everything Thor has lost in such a short period of time with almost no warning, everyone he mourned but didn’t lose because there was a really pissed off blue woman with a reset button. Of course he’s nervous about the people he still has. “Thor, I wasn’t dying.”

“I know, but humans are so fragile.” Bruce frowns at him and Thor rolls his eyes in the direction of the fire. “You said you were more susceptible to the cold and I…”

“Overreacted?” Bruce suggests. Thor finally looks at him again, but only to narrow his eyes. “Sorry, I get it.”

“No, I’m sorry for ‘freaking out’,” Thor throws his hands up in the air, mimicking his own panic. “Loki's complained about that too. I’ll try to control my worries.”

“I appreciate the worrying,” Bruce tries. There’s a beat. “But if I’m ever actually cold enough to be in serious danger, believe me I will be letting everybody know about it.” That gets Thor to smile slightly. “I am going to complain _so_ loud that you’ll get noise complaints from the nearest country.” That earns him a chuckle, and the sound of Thor laughing actually makes him smile too. 

Bruce picks the cape up (for all his pride he is still kind of cold) and wraps it around himself, getting comfortable. It’s softer than it looks, and it kind of smells like Thor, which Bruce only notices because the rest of the room smells like smoke now. They stay there for a long time watching the fire burn out. It’s the longest Thor has sat still in a week and Bruce has entirely forgotten why he was looking for him in the first place.

“You’re a good friend Thor,” Bruce says eventually, when the fire is almost dead and Thor’s room is starting to go dark. He should probably turn on a light or something but this is just… comfortable. Cozy. “I hope you know how… freakishly big your heart is.” It’s a stupid off-handed comment, because Bruce isn’t sure how to turn the warmth in his chest into words. “We should have called you the big-hearted avenger.” Thor smiles, bright and wide, and then in the quickly darkening room something… absolutely _wild_ happens.

Thor sparkles.

Literally, there are sparks coming off of his hands. They’re lighting up the room in fizzling, golden bursts as the fire dies down. There’s a beat of silence, and then they both panic. Bruce tries to throw the cape over his hands and Thor waves them in the air frantically like they’re on fire. 

“No, no, what are you doing? Stop, drop, and roll man!” Bruce cries, because for some reason his brain is reacting like Thor’s hands are on fire. 

“What?!” Thor shouts, because he’s panicking a little. Bruce shoves him, trying to just get him to _lie down_ and smother the flames that don’t exist, but that just sends both of them off balance and the cape flying across the room. 

Lying on the floor, confronted with Thor’s hands which are very much not on fire or sparkling anymore, the hilarity of the situation catches up with Bruce. Helpless laughter bubbles out of him, and he buries his head in the nearest object (Thor’s chest) to try and smother it. Laughter, fire, one and the same in need of smothering. 

“What are you-” Thor tries to ask something, but he’s laughing too. Whether he’s laughing at how stupid they look, how stupid this situation is, from panic, or just because Bruce’s laughter is infectious, it only makes Bruce laugh harder. Soon they’re both in hysterics, and then Thor’s hands are glowing again. Most of him, in fact, is glowing as electricity winds its way around his limbs like a snake. Bruce's laughter stalls, and he can feel his hair standing on end. It's captivating. Thor has his eyes closed so maybe he can’t feel whatever is happening to him. So, it’s not painful. It’s not an emergency. It’s just… strange. Strange and beautiful. It makes sense in a way, that Thor is too bright and warm and alive to be contained in a body.

After a while Thor sighs and finally opens his eyes. As his laughter dies down, so does the glowing. “I haven’t laughed like that in….” He scrunches up his face in thought. “Months? A year?” He smiles at Bruce, looking a little dazed. “What was that about? The sparks I mean. The only time my powers have come close to acting without me telling them to was in the arena.”

Bruce, the self-titled expert in superpowers that are connected to your emotions, is rapidly developing a theory. He’s not thrilled about the image it creates of Thor’s emotional health over the past few months.

### 

“What are you doing?”

Loki freezes, and the spectral shapes dancing around him do too. The children sat in front of him duck their heads slightly, like if Thor can’t see their faces he won’t know they’re there. Thor looks down at Bruce, utterly confused. Bruce shrugs back at him, readjusting his grip on the blanket.

“Nothing,” Loki says, turning around to face them. He makes the small ghostlike projections disappear with the wave of a hand. There’s a lot of grumbling from the kids, several of them direct their pouts at Thor for interrupting the show.

“You were doing a magic show,” Thor accuses him. Loki looks from side to side, shifting awkwardly on the spot. He laughs nervously. 

“Brother, the dark must be playing tricks on your eyes,” Loki suggests. 

“No, that was definitely a magic show,” Bruce agrees. Loki outright glares at him with what Bruce really hopes isn’t actual murderous fury. There’s a loud noise from behind them, the kind of noise only one Asgardian with a specific brand of attitude can make when she walks.

“What’s going on?” Brunnhilde calls, practically hopping down the gangplank of the ship. “I thought you guys were gonna get a good spot.”

“Loki’s doing a magic show,” Thor answers her, not with any spite or mockery but with genuine glee. Loki splutters, his hands doing weird things as he stumbles over himself to deny it.

“Ha!” Brunnhilde points the hand not carrying drinks at Loki. 

“It’s NOT a magic show!” Loki protests. “It’s a… it’s a… display of my great talent!” He declares, spreading his arms wide like he’s about to be embraced by an adoring crowd. Thor makes a face, Bruce bites his lip to hold back laughter he genuinely might be killed for, and Brunnhilde openly snorts as she jogs the rest of the way down the street. (Because New Asgard actually has some _houses_ now, and therefore streets.) “Children,” he spins around to his once captive audience, “tell them.” 

“Prince Loki was trying to teach us some tricks!” Pipes up one of his little fans. Several of them nod and Loki smirks, looking back smugly at the three of them.

“Ah, I see.” Thor bends down till he’s at eye-level with the children. They smile at him, eager but nervous. “It’s not a magic show.” Loki makes a satisfied noise. “It’s a magic class.” Loki’s face drops, and he scowls at Thor. Bruce can’t help the amused noise he makes. 

“Please don’t degrade the magic mother taught us,” Loki huffs as Thor stands up. He shoos the children, who all jump to their feet. “Get away now small trolls and find some other adult to embarrass.”

“Goodbye Prince Loki,” says one particularly small child. “Are we having another story time tomorrow?” Loki flushes, and makes a frustrated noise.

“Yes, yes, yes, now _go_.” They do.

Loki is, bizarrely enough, sharing a duty with Heimdall. There are a lot of old stories from Asgard: myth and truth equally mixed. Somebody has to carry on that knowledge. There aren’t any books left, save an odd few rescued by some very determined librarians just before they fled into the caves, so it can’t be from books. Given his established flair for the dramatic, nobody can think of anything better suited to keeping him out of trouble than having him work on this. So, he recites the old stories and a team dutifully scribble them down. The downside to this is that Loki’s dramatic nature comes with a love of embellishment. Hence Heimdall is there to correct him and make sure he doesn’t change anything. They make for quite the double act. This has morphed slowly into re-telling stories for crowds when the evening comes, and everybody finally gets a break. It’s the only real scheduled entertainment. Or at least it was. Recently watching the Northern Lights has become just as popular. 

His magic is another undeniable asset too, and he normally uses it to participate in construction without actually lifting things. Bruce has never seen him use it like this.

“Why brother-” 

“Oh don’t start,” Loki groans, turning around and walking away as fast as he can. Thor follows, and what else can Brunnhilde and Bruce do but go with them?

“I had no idea you were so benevolent,” Thor is saying, boldly fitting an arm around Loki’s shoulder. “Entertaining children with your magic? Who are you, what have you done with Loki?”

“If anybody was going to bring community theatre to New Asgard before it even got a hospital, it would be you,” Brunnhilde chimes in eagerly. Loki groans again and grits his teeth.

“I was showing off. Most people,” judging by his pointed look ‘most people’ clearly means ‘Thor’, “don’t appreciate my magic. It’s nice to be appreciated, you know.”

“What were you doing?” Bruce asks, as he and Brunnhilde fall into step beside the brothers. Loki rolls his eyes. 

“I highly doubt you’ll understand,” he says, shooting Bruce a look that’s annoyingly similar to the one he used on the children. “Even if you could, you’d drive yourself mad trying to find some explanation that doesn’t contradict Earth science.”

“Hey-” Bruce begins.

“No.” Thor removes his arm from Loki’s shoulder and nudges him, maybe a little too hard. “You just don’t know how to explain it.” He moves his other arm to Bruce’s shoulder now. “Banner is very intelligent.” Thor smiles at him and Bruce is already smiling back. He’s not going to deny that a lot of his self-worth rides on the idea that he’s smart. The look Loki shoots him is especially hateful, even for Loki. For some reason Brunnhilde also rolls her eyes. Bruce doesn’t get a chance to wonder what that’s about because Thor suddenly continues, “He has _seven PhDs_ you know.” He waits expectantly for some sort of laughter, but the most he gets is Bruce flushing.

“What’s a PhD?” Brunnhilde asks. “And why do you need seven of them?”

“Hey, how about we make fun of Loki again?” Bruce blurts out

“Let’s not make fun of Loki,” says Loki. “Let’s keep making fun of Banner.”

“I’m not making fun of Banner,” Thor protests. The hand on Bruce’s shoulder squeezes it reassuringly. “Well I am, but it’s an inside joke.” Loki’s eyes flash.

“Like the beast that dwells within-” Thor shoves him, Brunnhilde goes to throw a bottle at him but immediately thinks better of the waste. Bruce just waits for a moment, zoning out on everything around him and only walking by the grace of Thor pulling him along. Then he makes direct eye contact with Loki, who sees one hint of green and immediately turns even paler than normal. “Where are we even going?” Loki asks, abruptly turning away and staring dead ahead. He’s obviously trying to sound relaxed, but it comes out a little squeaky.

“ _We_ are going to watch the lights, right about here actually.” Thor brings them to a stop just outside of the main area of construction, where the land is still unmapped and semi-blank. Bruce starts setting up the blankets. “But you’re welcome to join us. Banner says we should get quite a show tonight.”

“Ah, the lights.” Loki nods, sitting down on the blanket while Bruce is still trying to spread it out. “The earth magic,” He says. Bruce knows he’s only saying that to antagonize him, but the thing is that Loki is _very good_ at antagonizing.

“Not. Magic,” Bruce hisses. He tries to sit at the far end of the blanket from Loki, but Brunnhilde throws herself down there with a wink and lays out the drinks. Reluctantly, because this is closer to Loki than he really wanted to be, Bruce sits down beside her. Thor drops enthusiastically to sit between him and Loki. Apparently the arm around Bruce’s shoulder was a sign that Thor’s touchy-ness is out in full force tonight, because now there’s a god-sized weight leaning on him. 

The blank canvas soon fills up with other people who, though not as certain as their foursome that the lights will be here tonight, are eager to look for them. This is some rare entertainment that they didn’t have to make themselves, and after the hard work of construction it’s exactly what everybody needs. What was once a comfortable silence slowly becomes a chattering crowd, and Bruce tries to remind himself that he’s okay with crowds now. Especially this crowd, who don’t fear him. Crowds are fine, so he can’t explain why his breathing picks up except to blame it on an instinctive, conditioned fear. Thor, who can obviously feel him breathing faster, lays a hand on his knee. The weight is calming and by the time the first ribbon of green appears in the sky he’s breathing easy. There are the predictable gasps. Thor moves his hand but stays where he is.

It _is_ a good show tonight. The lights are mostly green but the limited colour doesn’t make it any less beautiful. The waving, curling lines make it seem as if the sky is swaying like the sea. A kelp forest projecting itself onto the pitch-black night sky. 

“Why does this remind me of Asgard?” Brunnhilde asks out of nowhere. It’s the first time Bruce has heard her talk about her home. She sounds like there’s a memory on the tip of her tongue. Something she can recall only the feeling of.

“We had lights in the sky too,” Loki replies quietly. Brunnhilde makes a noise of recognition and nods. “They were different to these of course, it was more like a rainbow at night. Colourful lights on the bridge, in the sky, sometimes in the water. Colours are tightly linked with the place, at least in my head.” 

“Yes…” Thor murmurs. He’s so quiet, so obviously affected, that all four of them fall silent again.

“I always wanted to come and see these when I was a kid,” Bruce gives speaking another go after some time has passed. “I never did though, not even when I was travelling.” 

“Are they everything you expected?” Thor asks, and wow his voice is kinda close to Bruce’s ear. He doesn’t mind. He probably should.

“Kind of. Maybe better actually, in my daydreams I was seeing them alone.” He was always alone, even before Hulk. Just having this, someone leaning against him, feels like some sort of miracle. “I’m glad I’m seeing them with you.” He means all of them. He knows he means all of them, because he looks at Brunnhilde, the crowd who can’t hear him, and even _Loki_ as he says it. It’s not his fault he turns his head and makes eye contact with Thor just as he says ‘you’. It’s not his fault he leans into Thor’s weight and smiles, or that all the air inexplicably floods out of his lungs.

It’s definitely not his fault that Thor blushes, and then there’s a sudden, unexplained crackling sound, and Thor is glowing, and-

Loki murmurs something that Bruce doesn't catch. Thor's cheeks turn a little red and he abruptly leans away from Bruce. His face slips into a scowl as he twists his neck to look at his brother. The electricity moving over his skin in ribbons that mirror the Northern Lights disappears with a sharper crack, and the world is a little less beautiful for it.

"I am _not_ ," Thor snaps, in response to Loki's unheard comment. Loki’s hair is puffy, standing on end, and has clearly taken the brunt of Thor's static.

“You could at least try to keep it under control," Loki replies. Bruce has no idea what's going on, but he's gotten used to the fact that Thor and Loki are in semi-permanent disagreement. Arguing one moment and united the next. So maybe this is some weird brotherly tiff. "Do you have to _literally_ spell it out in big, electrical letters?"

"I have no idea what they're talking about," Bruce whispers to Brunnhilde.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” she mutters. Thor doesn’t seem to hear her and Bruce doesn’t understand.

“They just- they act without my command sometimes!” Thor says. “When-”

“When your emotions are strong, yes,” Loki scoffs. For some reason he glares at _Bruce_ as he says it. "And don't try to tell me the lights made you over-emotional. You haven't been able to lie to me since we were five." He stands up, huffing and combing his hands through his hair desperately. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to save my hair from the effects of your _emotions_.” He walks away as haughtily as someone who has just had a bad encounter with static can walk. Thor sighs and stands up.

“Excuse _me_ , but I have to go and give my brother what Midgardians refer to as a wedgie.” Thor pauses, looking thoughtful. “That was a joke by the way. Don't tell him I was plotting against him, he does _not_ take well to that.” He rushes off, leaving Brunnhilde and Bruce with a crowd and the Northern Lights above.

“You were right, nice show tonight.” Brunnhilde claps him on the back. Bruce has never been so confused. 

### 

As they get further into actual construction the Hulk is more than willing to lend a hand too, dragging materials around like they’re lunch trays or holding up a frame for someone. He even hammers something… once… with his fist.

“Thor too weak,” Hulk huffs, effortlessly picking up the beam Thor is dragging across the ground.

“Hey!” Thor protests. “I was taking my time.”

“Thor too slow then,” Hulk argues, dropping it into place. “Hulk fast, like lightning.”

“Watch it,” Thor warns, but he’s smiling. Hulk smiles too. Thor makes him laugh. Thor is good. 

“Thor happy with Hulk?” He asks.

“Thor very happy with Hulk,” Thor enthuses, already picking up a sheet of metal. 

“Thor not just Banner’s friend?” Hulk doesn’t have a word for what he’s feeling, but he recognises it from before, from Sakaar. Thor pauses for a moment, then smiles at him.

“You’re both my friends,” Thor says, and Hulk has gotten used to believing in Thor so he doesn’t question it. He just nods, satisfied, and looks for the next beam. “Do you… like me, Hulk?” Hulk frowns.

“Yes,” He says, though he’s already getting bored with this conversation.

“Do you know Banner’s mind?” Thor continues, and he’s slowing down again much to Hulk's annoyance. “Does… Banner like me?” 

“Yes,” Hulk says, taking the sheet of metal from him because he’s moving way too slow. “Stupid God. Banner and Hulk both like Thor.”

“… But how _much_ do-”

“Big guy!” Angry Girl comes running in from nowhere and throws herself at Hulk. He catches her with his free hand, of course, because Angry Girl is his first friend.

“Angry Girl!” Hulk likes Angry Girl, maybe more than anybody else. She is Friend. His friend first, Banner’s friend second. She’s the only person in the universe he can say that about. 

“You didn’t tell me you were out!” She punches Hulk’s shoulder, at full force because if _anybody_ can take it… “Thor, you didn’t tell me Hulk was out?!” Thor is frozen for a second, then he sighs.

### 

Construction is about to enter its last major phase. Central Building is all planned out, Bruce has even talked them out of building it onto The Statesman and instead leaving the ship as an untouched monument. (It never hurts to have a getaway vehicle in-case things turn ugly.) The hospital is halfway finished, and once those two buildings are complete the urgency will be almost entirely gone. They’ll all be able to relax a little.

Or at least, that’s the plan. Thor doesn’t appear to have got the memo about ‘less work’. They’re supposed to be greeting some scientists (courtesy of Fury who promised to throw a surprise in with them) sent to help with the integration of Asgardian tech to Earth tech. The Asgardian team are doing great work, but Bruce and Thor are the only people available with any knowledge of Earth and its capabilities. It’ll move a lot faster with more human hands to go around. Most of the council have conveniently found something more interesting to do, so it’s just Thor and Bruce waiting. Bruce has been left alone to deal with Thor’s endless stream of ideas for more work. A stream that doesn’t even halt as the helicopter lands and they’re waiting for the team to get out.

“Is the plan of your future room acceptable?” Thor asks, abruptly changing course from his extensive rant about potential statues for the gardens. Bruce just continues to watch him, the same slightly slack-jawed, baffled look on his face. “I’m glad you’ve decided to stay with us but if it’s going to be permanent maybe we should personalise your quarters. Perhaps we could extend it. We could add a private lab!”

“You want to… change the entire look of your people’s singular government building? Right before we start construction?” Bruce asks, rubbing one hand over an eye that’s starting to water.

“Well yes, it is rather ridiculous when you say it like that,” Thor murmurs, but instead of backing down he beams at Bruce all the wider. “What if we built you your own house?”

“What?!” Bruce groans. He’s confused and helpless in the face of Thor’s storm.

“A secret basement lab and a secret attic lab, yes?” Thor asks, leaning into his personal space. For a moment they just watch each other, Thor holding his breath for planning permission and Bruce trying to puzzle out where this is coming from.

“I think if anybody knows better than to do secret research, it’s me,” Bruce says gently, and just as gently pushes on Thor’s chest. Also, like the many Asgardians whose adaptation to communal-living has necessitated all the rooms they’ve planned for Central Building, he doesn’t particularly want his own home. “You’re being weird again, man,” he complains as Thor takes the hint and steps away. 

“Weird?” Thor practically splutters, shaking his head. “I’m not, uh, I’m not being weird.”

“Weird,” Bruce insists, and because he remembers the _last time_ Thor was weird he lets his voice soften. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on!” Thor says with unconvincing incredulity.

There’s no time to call Thor on his deflection though. The team of scientists hop out, and Fury was apparently not kidding about the ‘surprise’. Jane Foster is at the front of the team. Thor makes a strangled noise and Bruce tries not to look at him. Judging by the way the team stops when Jane does, she’s probably the leader. She’s holding a suspicious number of brown bags.

“Anybody got a microwave?” she yells over the wind and the dying down helicopter blades.

### 

“You deserve a knighthood or whatever Asgardians do for getting this. Thai take-out, that’s what this country needs,” Bruce enthuses, holding back an honest to god moan from the last bite of food. Jane rolls her eyes at him.

“Or, you know, a hospital,” she suggests with an amused smile. Bruce shakes his head, waving one hand in the air because he’s got another mouthful of pad thai. It’s not so much table manners as it is not wanting to waste a single drop. They’re not even at a table, Jane is perched on the handmade desk and Bruce is sprawled out on his bed. There are a lot of books spread out around them – an almost ungodly amount actually – and several crude blueprints (Bruce) plus some neater revisions of said blueprints (Jane). It’s a Scientist Sleepover (patent pending).

“This is a stress cure. Stick it under mental health, build it into the hospital,” he says with a proud flourish of one hand. It actually gets a laugh out of her and she shakes her head, picking at her own box. “Trust me, let Thor try this and he’ll agree with me.”

“Thor likes anything as long as it’s food, or even if he just thinks it’s food,” she protests. Her voice is warm and fond like her smile, which would be nice except… it isn’t. For some reason that soft tone drops an uncomfortable lump onto Bruce’s stomach, and lodges two more in his throat. Suddenly he doesn’t feel especially hungry.

“That must be a nice bonus to this,” Bruce aims for casual and clearly misses it by a mile judging by her frown. “I mean- getting to see Thor again, right?” Her frown melts into a smile.

“Yeah, it’s nice to catch up,” she pauses for the sake of a prawn. “He’s different now… good different, but also bad different.” Something defensive flares up in Bruce and he’s a moment away from launching into a disconcertingly detailed rant about how good, and kind, and devoted Thor is when she keeps going. “Not like the way he’s different is bad. It’s just a kind of different I know he got to through pain, and I wish he hadn’t had to suffer.” There’s nothing Bruce can really say to that. He was there, and he witnessed it, but he’s not sure how to even begin talking about it. So he just ‘mhms’ softly in agreement and continues prodding at his food, feeling useless. “I've been trying to sit down and talk with him today, not just _see_ him, but he’s so busy,” Jane shrugs, “so at least that’s not different.” 

“Well rebuilding is busy work.” Jane nods, because she’s not an idiot and she knows that. “But… y’know…” Bruce wants to say something. At the same time he doesn’t want to say it. Some part of him is screaming at him to bring it up and another part is telling him to keep his mouth shut. He’s not sure where either urge is coming from and he’s even less sure of what motives they have. “I’m sure we can all organize and force him to take a break if you want some alone time.” Jane tilts her head.

“Alone time?” she asks, and geez Bruce is just going to have to take a Hulk style blunt approach to this situation, isn’t he?

“You know…. Thor’s on Earth fulltime now, you guys can see each other, maybe… rekindle-” Jane is laughing. No, she’s not just laughing, she’s roaring with it. She laughs so hard she falls off the desk and lands on a stack of paper takeout bags.

“Shit!” Bruce almost spills his pad thai on the floor as he scrambles to sit up. “Oh god, oh god-”

“I’m fine!” Jane cries, laughing even harder now.

“Oh god, shit, shit, damnit-”

“I’m fine!” she repeats, clutching her stomach with one hand and her miraculously safe box of takeout to her chest with the other. For a moment they just sit there, Bruce staring at her in horror and Jane laughing like she’s lost her mind. Did she hit her head? Bruce didn’t see. Oh man what if she hit her head? Her brain is too good to be damaged by Bruce’s big mouth. Then, as suddenly as she’d started laughing, Jane sighs deeply to catch her breath and pulls herself together. “Oh my god.” She wipes actual tears from her eyes, still giggling.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks.

“Rekindle?” Jane ignores him. “You think- that I’m- that Thor-?” She shakes her head, shoulders shaking with another repressed wave of laughter. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, I just, you dumped him because of the long-distance thing, right?” Bruce asks. Jane frowns at him.

“Mutual dumping. We both knew our relationship wasn’t good for me anymore,” she corrects him. “And yes, that was part of it. He was never here, and when he was physically present his mind wasn’t. He’d be thinking about the infinity stones, and I don’t exactly resent him for that I know it was genuinely important but… you can’t have a relationship like that. You can’t go without speaking for months and almost a year and call it a relationship.” 

“Well that’s fixed now, right?” Bruce can’t explain why his chest feels like it’s been hollowed out and is slowly filling with ice cold water. That’s a lie. He can definitely explain it. He just doesn’t want to. What he can’t explain is why he’s persisting with this.

“I mean, not really,” Jane makes a face. “He’s on Earth now but he’s still not living in ‘my world’. My world is made up of apartments, and universities, and labs, and guest lecturing. Thor’s a king. He has to rebuild, govern, and generally stay here and be responsible. We both wanted to explore, the problem was I was exploring this planet and scientific theories while he was exploring space in person. I was the more ‘settled’ one, even though I’m not really by human standards. Now he’s the settled one, and I don’t want that.”

“So that’s it?” Bruce asks. “That’s all that’s stopping you? I’ll get him a phone.” Why is he pushing this?!

“Why are you pushing this?” Jane frowns at him, and then her eyes go wide with dawning horror. “Has Thor been saying anything? Did he put you up to this?”

“What? No.” Bruce shakes his head furiously. Jane looks unconvinced. “No, he hasn’t said anything. I just assumed or guessed or…” He sighs. “I just want him to be happy.” It slips out before he can cram it back in, and then Jane is staring at him and everything else slips out of the hole he’s accidentally kicked in the fence. “He’s been through so much shit and he’s working so hard to be the pillar everybody leans on without giving himself _anything_. I just… want him to stop looking so stressed for five minutes.” It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s said to hit him. When it does he feels like a massive douchebag. “I’m sorry, geez, I didn’t mean you should just make him happy you’re obviously more than a thing to make some guy happy. I didn’t mean that. It’s just that you’re both good people I want you both to be happy. If the things keeping you guys from being happy _together_ are fixable I want to-”

“They’re not. I don’t want to be with Thor,” Jane says bluntly, but she’s obviously not going to kill him because she puts the takeout down and drags herself onto the bed beside him. “I am always going to be fond of Thor, the same way I’d be fond of a stray I rescued off the street and saw grow back to full health. But he’s not the cute stray from New Mexico anymore, and we’re not caught up in some big romantically charged adventure. We’re adults who grew apart because we lead very different lives. Surely you’ve had something that felt right in the moment but-”

“Yep.” Bruce does not want to think about his long trail of terrible romantic decisions right now (Two. There’s two of them. It’s not a trail.)

“Sometimes things are good and then they start becoming… less good.” Jane shrugs. “Thor’s wonderful, and I care about him a lot. Nothing ended because he was a bad person, he actually brought up how unhappy I seemed first. I’m glad we called things off before we started resenting each other for just… maturing with different priorities. Human Scientist and Asgardian Royalty was never going to work out long-term. Not without somebody giving up something they love.” She looks at Bruce with eyes that seem to know too much for a minute. He barely notices it because he’s trying not to focus on the roaring in his ears and the empty pit in his chest. He definitely notices when Jane reaches out almost frantically, like she’s suddenly remembered something important or thinks he’s about to run away. She’s rambling the same way Thor does when he realises he’s put his foot in his mouth. “At least, not for us! You’re basically a citizen which changes so many variables, I’m not saying Thor and _you_ won’t work out.”

“What?!” Bruce squeaks, actually squeaks, and jumps away from her touch. If she’s surprised she doesn’t show it. Emotions threaten to send him running into panic, which is less alarming than it should be because Bruce is so used to panicking. “Woah, woah! Where did that come from? That’s ridiculous! Thor and me are friends a-and colleagues. We’re not- there is no ‘Thor and me’ that would be… ridiculous!” He repeats himself helplessly.

“Would it?” Jane asks, and she’s definitely holding back a smirk. “Because it doesn’t sound like you just want Thor to be happy, it sounds like you want to make him happy.”

“That’s… same thing,” Bruce mutters. Jane makes a face and shakes her head.

God… Jane is so intelligent and talented and perceptive. It’s kind of scary. She should have more degrees than he does, except she was smart enough to pick a specialization and stick to it. Even now, very much outside of her specialization, she’s sending him halfway toward a nervous breakdown. Bruce stares at the floor for a long time, his entire body tensed up. Slowly, ever so carefully, Jane puts her hand back on his arm.

“Did you not realise?” she asks quietly but firmly. 

“I mean… kind of.” Bruce shrugs awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her. “Subconsciously perhaps.” 

“Crept up on you?” she suggests. Bruce nods

“Or maybe I just didn’t want to think about it,” he sighs, stretching because it feels like he’s carrying twice as much tension as normal (and he carries a LOT of everyday tension). “It’s complicated.”

“Is it?” Jane basically repeats herself, and it’s almost infuriating how simple this conversation is for her. Still, she has a point and Bruce frowns, thinking very carefully.

“It should be,” he groans, and hesitates before continuing. He never knows how people will react to the big guy. “With the Hulk and everything, anything I get into should be complicated by default.” It is complicated. Thor’s a King, Bruce isn’t even clear on his citizenship. Thor had to allow his own home to be destroyed, they’re rebuilding an entire population’s lives from the ground up, they’re one of a few people in the universe who remember an alternate reality where a giant grape erased half of all life, sometimes Bruce isn’t even Bruce because Hulk wants a turn at bat, Thor is a borderline god who could fry someone with a hand gesture, Hulk beat Thor’s brother senseless for trying to take over the world, Thor’s brother _tried to take over the world_ , they’re both drowning in trauma, and to top all of that off he’s considering his feelings for the first time whilst talking to Thor’s ex.

Yet, at the same time…. It isn’t complicated. They’re two people in a big friend group who never really noticed each other, drifted apart, and reconnected years later after they’d both grown and changed. Though it was rough getting to know each other again, they found they got on better than they ever had before. It hasn’t been difficult, even though by rights it should have been. It’s been watching Thor work - emotionally and physically - until his arms shake to help people rebuild, and realising what a beautifully, almost unfairly good person he is. It’s been laughing more than he has in years because Thor is just fun to be around. It’s been relaxing, letting himself and the Hulk just breathe, safe in the knowledge they can’t hurt Thor. (Not badly anyway, and not on purpose now Hulk has decided he likes having a friend.) It’s been comfortable, being appreciated and appreciating in return. It’s been… borderline nervous flirting, or at least the recent months have added that to the mix. 

Falling for him has, in short, been shockingly easy and normal. Thor makes him laugh, points out his strengths, constantly supports him, and in a life as lacking in affection as Bruce's, his constant touching and unrestrained softness is more than welcome. (Also he's _Thor_ and he's unfairly handsome, but that's less important.) Love hasn’t roared into existence like thunder, it has crept in like the tide. Nothing dramatic or grand, as it really ought to have been. The quiet whisper of an emotion stands with the strength of a shout as a contradiction to who they are and where they are.

“Oh,” Jane inhales sharply, drawing Bruce out of his reverie. “You’ve got it bad.”

Scientist Sleepovers, as it turns out, are identical to regular sleepovers. Patent cancelled.

### 

New Asgard is finished.

Okay, it isn’t finished. There’s still a lot of work to do, the infrastructure is basic, the buildings will gradually need to be upgraded as the scientists get what they need to incorporate the Asgardian tech, the only government buildings are the hospital and the actual Central Building, and all the council bar Heimdall and Thor are in agreement that it’s not a town till there’s a bar. But from up here, with the buildings all neatly laid out before him, the streets filled with tiny specks that could be either people or smudges on his glasses, Central Building looming in the distance beside The Statesman despite how high Bruce is sat, and the memory of the blank canvas this place had once been… it feels like it’s finished. Maybe finished isn’t the right word, maybe… accomplished. It’s proof of concept. They’ve done the hard part, now all they have to do is polish it.

Bruce almost feels stupid for thinking about work. Nobody else is tonight. The faint music still coming from the town below him, the occasional stray balloon, the people traipsing around in the snow without a care in the world, all attest to that. The opening party for Central Building, more of an opening party for New Asgard than just the one building really, is winding down but these few signs suggest it’s going to carry on well into the late night. Bruce has never been a big ‘parties’ person but if there is one part (ha) of a party he likes, it’s this one. When things are quiet but there’s still a buzz in the air, like everyone has gotten all their loud out and settled into a warm afterglow of contentment. A balcony on Avengers Tower in the later hours of a Stark party, the quiet debris-strewn streets at sunrise after a town built from discarded trash has exploded in temporary festival, a Nobel after-party. 

“What are you doing up here by yourself?” Bruce jumps so hard he almost gets to his feet, clutching at the ground beneath him because for a moment there he’d felt like he was falling from the muddy outcrop. The hill gently slopes down into New Asgard, the height of it almost creeping up on you as you climb, but the slight outcrop at the top provides enough of an initial fall to be wary of. His unexpected visitor apparently had a similar fear, because there’s a fist clutching the back of his shirt. Thor’s fist, which slowly releases him when he realises he’s not falling anywhere. “Are you alright?” He hears Thor kneel down behind him while he’s still trying to get his breath back, and maybe the rest of his body stayed up here but the soft concern in Thor’s voice sends his chest into freefall. 

“Geez,” Bruce huffs, twisting round awkwardly and nearly going through the whole process all over again because Thor is _close_. He’s also still holding a drink. “Trying to kill me?” Thor looks sheepish and tries to play with hair that he hasn’t been growing out. Bruce tries not to mess with his own heart by wondering if that’s because of the times he’s complimented the short hair look.

“Looking for some peace and quiet,” Thor admits quietly. Bruce raises a sceptical eyebrow.

“Really? Cause I’ve seen you at parties Thor, you’re not the type who has to catch his breath.” In fact at most of the parties the avengers were at – there weren’t many but there were enough – Thor was always at the centre of it all. Drinking, socializing, and never seeming to need the same pause that all of them except Tony inevitably did. Bruce knows, because his number one party activity was people watching. Very few people want to talk to a guy with impressive anger issues when there’s free-flowing alcohol. He’d be in the quietest part of the room, inevitably looking toward the centre where the crowd was thickest, and he’d always find Thor there. It was a reassuring constant until the guest number dwindled and the avengers closed ranks. To be sitting on the margins with him is new.

“Perhaps I wasn’t before but… I think I am tonight.” He downs the rest of his drink and Bruce looks him up and down semi-critically. He doesn’t seem drunk. Exhausted? Maybe. An itch under his skin he doesn’t have the energy to scratch? Absolutely. 

“Come on,” Bruce sighs, and pats the fairly flat rocks beside him. Thor’s thoughtful frown instantly turns into a grin and he abandons the glass somewhere on the grassy mound behind them. There are too many layers to count wrapped around Bruce, but he can still feel the heat coming from Thor as he scoots forward to sit at his side. It’s a nice contrast to the chilling breeze. “I didn’t even see you coming up here,” Bruce says as they overlook the wide, impressively clear slope that curves down to the flat earth beneath New Asgard, almost cradling the few houses that sit on the edge of town.

“I stuck to the outskirts.” The edges of the hill are dark and thick, the evergreens almost marking the boundary of how far either side of the incline New Asgard has spread. “I didn’t want to be seen.” That’s not normal for Thor, none of this is, but Bruce isn’t sure how to ask about it.

“Well, I mean, you’ve failed there.” Instead, he opts for diversionary tactics. Bruce gestures at himself when Thor’s face scrunches in puzzlement. “I can kind of see you right now.” Thor’s face brightens with understanding and a smile.

“I don’t mind _you_ seeing me,” Thor says. What lights the firework in Bruce’s chest, Thor’s words or his smile? He may never know. “You never answered my question: what are you doing up here by yourself?” Thor asks, the enthusiasm in his voice a little too forced and the words very clearly not the ones that were fighting just to get through his throat. But Bruce goes with it. That’s kind of their thing, just going with it.

“Parties aren’t my scene.” Bruce shrugs. “I mean… they never were, but they’re different here. People actually want to talk to me.”

“That’s good though, right?” Thor prompts. Bruce tries not to laugh.

“Yeah, it is. But I’m not much of a people person, it’s good but it tires me out. So I took a break.” He pauses, caught up in the way the moonlight shines off the snow and makes the town glimmer. “Also, I just wanted to…. I don’t know. Take it all in? I thought it’d be nice to see it all at once, everything we’ve built. It feels so good to have created something for once,” he feels Thor’s eyes on the side of his head, “rather than destroyed it.” 

“Banner,” Thor shuffles closer, “you are not an agent of mere destruction. You have always created.”

“Yeah I created Ultron, I created the Hulk,” Bruce tries to make a joke, and he swears Thor bristles.

“Hulk helped to build what you see before you. Hulk is not just a witless beast bent on destruction,” Thor sounds almost defensive, and okay Bruce kind of gets it but he doesn’t need to hear it. It’s his and Hulk’s right to insult each other. “Hulk helped to save my people. The children tell tales of his heroics. You threw yourself from a height that could have killed you. Everybody is very grateful to him, and to you, for risking your life... lives?” Maybe it’s just the effect Thor has on him, but despite the serious topic he almost laughs. 

“I know, I know, calm down.” Bruce pats Thor on the shoulder and hopes it doesn’t seem condescending. Thor huffs. “But that’s not how everyone on this planet saw us. That’s not how I saw Hulk, or how Hulk saw himself, until you and,” Bruce gestures down at the town below them, “they gave him the opportunity.” Even acknowledging Hulk has enough self-awareness to possess a sense of identity would have been preposterous three years ago. “It’s nice to not be looked at like a monster, to be given the chance to build and not have everyone assume what you’re capable of.” Thor is staring at him, and Bruce does his best to ignore that and lose himself in the fact that for once in his life he’s genuinely proud of himself.

“New Asgard is very taken with you Banner,” Thor finally says. “Maybe Earth thought you and the Hulk were a single monster, but Asgard met you both as heroes. I hope you know that.” There’s a softness in his voice and maybe Bruce, desperate as ever for softness and contact after so many years of denying himself, leans towards that softness instinctively. Maybe he doesn’t. Nobody can prove it, it’s just the two of them on this hill, sitting closer together than when they started. Bruce keeps staring down at New Asgard, not trusting himself to respond to any of that, and as he’s staring down with Thor in the corner of his eye, he becomes aware of something.

Thor isn’t looking at the town. He’s not staring at Bruce anymore, or interested in anything else. He’s just very purposefully and carefully not looking at it. Bruce is suddenly uncomfortably aware that Thor was literally raised in a golden palace. He’s never seen him act finicky but maybe what they’ve built here isn’t as huge to Thor as it is to him. 

“I know New Asgard isn’t really that impressive but I’m still proud of it,” Bruce tries. He doesn’t lean away because, as insulting as the idea that Thor doesn’t like this place they’ve built is, he doesn’t have the inner strength to put distance between himself and the long-absent warmth of a person he can trust. Thor shoots him a confused, almost affronted look. 

“No, it is impressive,” Thor corrects him, and then sighs. It’s a sigh of defeat, and it’s so out of place in this night of celebration that Bruce can’t help but turn to stare at him. “We’ve built all of this. We’ve resettled. We made it. Asgard survived.” His words sound hollow. Thor puts his heart into everything, so it’s incredibly obvious when he’s not feeling something. 

“Is that… a bad thing?” Bruce is so confused. 

“No, of course not. It’s just…. When rebuilding was a work in progress this was a goal, a dream. It couldn’t disappoint people. Now it’s a reality and,” Thor runs a hand over his face, “it might not be enough. It has to be perfect. Everybody lost their home, their world. I did that to them, and then I brought them here to build this. What if it isn’t worth it? What if it isn’t enough? What if I’m not enough?” Electricity dances around his arms. Bruce reaches up to feel his own hair and is entirely unsurprised to find it almost standing up straight from Thor’s static.

“Thor… Ragnarok was the only way.” Thor stays silent and, staring at him, Bruce comes to something of a deeper realisation about what he’s saying. “You’re not ‘an agent of mere destruction’ either Thor.” He knows what it’s like to have destruction and saving people be one and the same. To look at what you did to save people and see debris, rubble, and regret. He knows what it’s like to have your powers and your emotions work together. They’ve become even more alike than Bruce could ever have imagined.

“I know that.” The electricity spikes, more of a sharp crackle than a dance now and Bruce is amazed at the control that’s keeping him from getting fried by it. “I know the lives are more important than the place, we all knew it had to be done. But I can’t stop thinking that it has to be worth it. This,” Thor gestures at New Asgard, “has to be worth it.” His hand drops as he stares helplessly out over the top of New Asgard, at the peak of Central Building and into the evergreens and mountainous regions beyond. He swallows and slowly, slowly drops his gaze to his own lap. “I’m sorry,” he says, with his unique Thor brand of determination, and clenches his fist. They both watch as the thrumming electricity hovering over his skin slowly fizzles out. “I should be proud of what we’ve done. Instead I’m restless and I wish we weren’t finished. Rebuilding kept me busy. It gave me purpose and a clear way to fulfill the people’s needs.” He pauses for a second, there’s a brief spark before he gets it under control again. “It gave me a distraction from my own thoughts.”

“Is that why you kept redesigning Central Building?” Bruce asks. It all makes a new kind of sense now: Thor offering to build him his own house, Thor working non-stop and practically halving the construction time of New Asgard alone.

“I didn’t want to face the final product. That would mean facing everything,” he admits a little hoarsely. “It would mean stopping and taking in what we've done. We took remains from something ancient and beautiful, and we built something new with them. This is beautiful too but it's... different.” There’s weight in that word. Something different. Painfully, awkwardly, undeniably, inescapably, different. The old shapes won’t fit anymore. The old shapes are stardust and a feeling carried on the wind. It will never be the same, the people will never be the same. The difficult part is not building, but rather learning to live with the deformed shadow you build. 

“To just be alive,” Bruce begins quietly, “and to survive and carry a piece of Asgard inside of you is enough. It doesn’t matter if it’s different Thor. The fact that it’s here is enough.” Thor sighs.

“I don’t know Banner, maybe it’s not the place that I doubt but myself. If I slow down and think about what I did, what I’ve learned, and what I’ve lost then it might overwhelm me. And every time I look at what we’ve built I am _reminded_ , painfully, of all of it. New Asgard makes it real. If it’s here then… it’s over and we have to come to terms with it and move on.” Thor’s hand twitches and his face falls even further when he once again tries to fiddle with hair that isn’t there anymore. “I don’t know if I’m ready. But I can’t just build a house every time I have a nightmare.”

The worst part of this is that Bruce understands. “When I was hiding, constantly on the run, fun stuff like that, I used to get uncomfortable being in one place too long. I mean, first of all it didn’t feel safe. Second of all, not having to run gave me time to think about the life I’d left behind.” He offers Thor a grim half-hearted smile when he feels eyes watching him. “I wasn’t dead but the life I had was.” There is a moment of silence filed by the rustling of the trees, the cold wind, and the music floating up from New Asgard.

“How did you get over it?” Thor asks, and he doesn’t quite manage to check the desperate note in his voice. There’s a pain in Bruce’s chest.

“I didn’t. I just… got used to living with homesickness in my gut until it had been so long I couldn’t remember the feeling of home well enough to miss it.” He realises, in a moment where he feels so unsteady and blindsided he might as well have been slapped, that the comfortable feeling he's experienced since rebuilding began has been that feeling of home. It’s just been so long since he last felt it that he hasn’t recognised it until now. Thor stares at his own lap pensively for a moment.

“I don’t want to forget Asgard.” He runs a hand through his short hair. “But I’m not looking forward to confronting and accepting my family’s lies either...” They both sigh and the wind, the trees, the music, consume them again for a moment.

“You can’t go home again,” Bruce breathes into the noise. Thor startles, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, then glares at him. Bruce has never seen him look so hurt.

“Yes, I _realise_ that Banner.” Bruce shakes his head and, without thinking, puts his hand on Thor’s arm.

“No, no, no it’s a book and, I guess, an expression. Even when you can go home, you _can’t_. You can’t see it the way you did as a child. Home changes without your permission. Or it was never what it seemed and once you discover the secrets and the lies and shit it's always different. Nothing ever stays the way it was.” He isn’t thinking when he slides his hand down Thor’s arm and takes his hand. “I guess that makes it even more complicated, huh? You have to accept that it’s gone, but at the same time you were away from it for a long time. You came back and couldn’t go home, and now you’ll never get another chance to try, or to make your peace with that.” There’s a beat where Thor is either looking right through him or into his heart.

“I want to martyr Asgard in my head, to remember it as the golden palace, and the endless sun, and the family sitting in power.” Thor’s hand closes around Bruce’s and he squeezes, drawing strength. “But it wasn’t, and I can’t let myself hide or gloss-over the lies and the atrocities. So I'm torn between the misery of missing what is gone and my anger with the half-truths it told. I lost the lie my world was built upon and then I lost my world, and I’m not sure which I’m mourning.” Bruce does the only thing he can do and squeezes back. 

“And that’s okay,” he says softly. Less than five words, but they seem to startle Thor. He turns his entire body towards Bruce, eyes wide like he’d never even considered that before. “It’s okay that you’re sad, and confused, and a little pissed off.”

“But I can’t be. Like I said: I have to be a leader worthy of-”

“No.” Bruce sees where this is going and tries to pull him out of it. “You can be a good, strong leader without denying yourself all feelings. You make friends everywhere you go Thor, that’s part of why everybody follows you. You’re real, you’re genuine man. Nobody expects you to come out of Ragnarok unaffected.” They’re simply looking at each other for a minute. Family, home, life. It’s so much to deal with. Thor doesn’t deserve it. Bruce can see him struggling to be kind to himself, he knows the fight too well to miss it. But Thor is prideful, and strong, and so rarely puts himself first. There’s not much Bruce can do but give him time. 

Then, a distraction. Something in the sky in the distance, that Bruce only notices because he has to look up at Thor. He frowns at it, but almost immediately places it and looks straight up. Thor follows his gaze.

Hulk Green blending with blue dances across the night sky. Purple, the deep colour of the one nice shirt Bruce still wishes Hulk hadn’t ripped up, streaks in and out of the loose waves in its own ordered arcs. Soft colours made dramatic and awe-inspiring against the black backdrop of the universe. It’s the kind of sight you can hear. The colours gently wind their way across the sky, always renewing, always waving like an unfurled flag. Somewhere down in New Asgard the music is muted and the entire world seems to pause. Even the rustling trees seem to go still, like they’ve finally frozen solid with the cold air. Bruce isn’t even aware of how cold it is anymore. He doesn’t even notice his mouth has mirrored the colours in the sky, curved into a helpless smile. It’s beautiful, it’s mighty, it’s bright in dark times, and it draws a smile from people without even trying.

It reminds him of Thor. 

Bruce looks down from the sky to the man (God?) in front of him. Now he's made the comparison it spirals in his head without his permission. Pure energy, an electric charge that has found its way across the void of space to Earth, to this place, and made the world all the more beautiful for its presence. (Maybe it even reminds him a little of Asgard itself, put that way.) Just to look upon them is enough, to touch those charged particles is a daydream. And yet here he is. His shoulder pressed against Thor's. Watching and touching the lights. For a dizzying moment the very atoms of Thor, lightly brushing against Bruce's side, are the same charged, beautifying particles that make up the Northern Lights... Then the dramatic, romantic vision fades, and Thor is himself again. There’s too much wonder in his eyes considering the things he’s seen, the thing he is, the way he turns Bruce from a steadfast scientist into a passionate fool.

“I wasn’t sure what to make of these lights at first,” Thor says quietly. He strokes his thumb over the back of Bruce’s hand absentmindedly and oh, right, they’re still holding hands. That’s a fun little fact Bruce can’t stop thinking about now, staring down at their joined hands instead of up at the sky.

“Well, everybody did think the sky was on fire,” Bruce points out, hoping he doesn’t sound affected. The corners of Thor’s mouth twitch.

“That was alarming, but they made me uncomfortable for a different reason.” He pauses, and the moment is still so quiet and peaceful that Bruce doesn’t feel compelled to rush him at all. “Asgard had similar phenomena, not just the bridge, and for a moment it… reminded me of home. I think I resented the lights for that.” Bruce looks up again. Not to the lights, but to Thor’s face at the tightness in his voice. Thor clears his throat. “But they are beautiful. I’ve adjusted to their different colours, their strange shape. These lights will never be the lights that I watched from my bedroom window, that I grew up under, but I’ve grown to like them anyway. I have fond memories of them. How terror turned to wonder when we saw them for the first time. They've lit up the sky whilst I've worked late into the night. You explained the science behind it to many crowds. Once, Loki sat down beside me and we watched the sky for a full twenty minutes without arguing. Before we had any other entertainment beyond what we could make up ourselves, watching them at night was a treat for the entire community. Looking at them now I think I might even love them.” He looks down, slowly, and offers Bruce a smile. “Perhaps, given time, I will learn to love the sky they drift through, and the ground I stand on, and what I’ve built on this ground while they watched.” There’s a physical ache in Bruce’s chest, and his stomach feels adrift and empty.

“You’re so…” Bruce trails off, shaking his head. Thor beams at him, filling in the gap with whatever compliment he likes. “See, that’s the Thor I know. Never giving up.” 

“I’m only as strong as the people with me,” Thor protests lightly, and fixes him with such an intense look that Bruce swears his lungs shrink to the size of mice. “I’m very glad you were one of them.” 

“You had a lot of people.” Bruce shuffles slightly, and represses a shiver. He's a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but he can’t escape. 

“And yet none of them make me laugh until I sparkle,” Thor points out. “I’m grateful for every little thing that has gone right in my life lately and you… are a big little thing, Bruce.” He leans forward slightly for emphasis and wow, okay. Thor has no concept of personal space. Bruce knew this, but wow he _really has no concept of personal space_. They’re so close he can count Thor’s eyelashes, almost feel his breath (he knows it isn’t his own because he’s holding that). Thor is so expressive, bright enough to make the Northern Lights seem dull, his lips are twitching almost nervously upwards while he waits for some sort of response and- hey. Thor has lips. That’s cool. He has lips too. Both pieces of information somehow feel like revelations. They are still. Holding. Hands. 

_Fuck it._

Bruce isn’t sure at what point his higher brain functions give out, or when his skills of reasoning and decision-making abandon him, but they’re tossed over the edge of the hill as he suddenly rushes forward to close the gap between their stupidly far apart lips. He closes his eyes, completely committed to this reckless moment. There’s one, two, three seconds of nothing but Thor’s chapped lips and Thor’s all-consuming warmth and Thor, Thor, Thor.

It’s a pitifully short-lived kiss, Bruce barely gets a chance to realise what he’s doing. A roar of thunder and an unmistakable crack of lightning in the distance break it up. Bruce can’t see it, obviously, because he’s got his eyes closed when it happens. But he imagines that lightning striking beneath the Northern Lights is one of the most awe-inspiring, cinematic images you could hope to capture. 

They jolt apart, even dropping each other’s hands, like the lighting has struck between them. Maybe it has because Bruce feels dazed, his lips are tingling, and his reasoning skills are still tumbling down the hill toward New Asgard, laughing with abandon and shaking out their hair. Thor is looking behind them. That’s probably where the crack sounded from but Bruce was a little busy so he’s not exactly sure. It was all around him, Thor taking over his senses and then the very atmosphere. With an almost embarrassed look on his face, Thor turns back to him. His fingers are trailing over his own lips, like he’s in shock.

The realisation of what he’s done and the panic that hits Bruce are also twin bolts of lightning in their own way.

“I’m-” He starts.

“I’m-” Thor is also starting. They both stop, just staring at each other. 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce rushes out. “That was inappropriate and wrong and- and I don’t even know- frankly, where it came from! Maybe I drank too much!” He tries, desperately. Thor raises an eyebrow at him. “Because I- I mean we all know that avengers shouldn’t date and that you’re going through some shit right now and I just- I threw myself at you without even asking and-” Thor moves as fast as… well, lightning, and suddenly his index finger is on Bruce’s lips. “Hmm?” Bruce makes the most puzzled sound he can mange without opening his mouth.

“We aren’t avengers anymore,” Thor says it like he’s talking about the weather. “And you’ve been going through it with me. And for a smart man Ban- Bruce, you are very stupid.” Bruce glares at him and grumbles a complaint. Thor smiles back at him, almost fondly. “No, you are. I can’t think of a clearer sign that the person you're kissing is happy about it than their joy being so overwhelming it summons a bolt of lightning.” Bruce’s eyes go wide. Thor tilts his head and raises his eyebrows pointedly, removing his finger. Well, that’s a new one. Sparks literally flying.

“Oh,” is all Bruce can say, and it might be freezing but his face is burning. 

“I was trying to apologise for losing control of my powers.” It’s okay that he’s blushing though, because Thor is turning red too. “It’s never happened like that before. I think that was twelve percent shock.”

“Oh, really?” Anyone who claims making a god lose control wouldn’t send them on a power trip is lying. Or at least, that’s Bruce’s excuse for the confidence that seizes him. Maybe it isn't even that, maybe it's just that Thor's constant support has already made him more confident. “Sounds like something that might need… further scientific study,” he suggests, intentionally taking his voice slightly lower. Thor laughs because of course he does, that was the dumbest sentence ever spoken aloud in all the nine realms. Bruce just scoffs, places a hand on his neck, and gently but firmly pulls him down. Thor goes willingly to meet him.

Even though Bruce has to tilt his head upwards, he’s sinking. Sinking into a kiss that is soft and warm (and Thor’s kiss is like his personality: honest and genuine and unrestrained). Sinking into a wave of thunder that rolls in gently like it’s riding on the soft backs of the Northern Lights to envelop them. Whenever he’s imagined this, and he has, Thor’s kisses are storm given physicality. It isn’t like that at all. Thor’s kiss is like… a mild summer evening, when there might be a storm on the horizon but for now it’s dry, a gentle breeze is blowing through, and everything is warm and at peace. Thor doesn’t so much raise his hand as slowly move it up Bruce’s arm (like he can’t stop touching him for even a second) and follow this unmarked trail slightly further to rest on Bruce’s cheek.

They both move at the same time to deepen the kiss. Bruce isn’t exactly… experienced, but he must do something right because there’s another snap of lightning. They ignore it. It feels like they fell off the rocky outcrop a long time ago, and they’ve been rolling down the hill ever since, too busy kissing to try and stop the fall. This is life now, forever falling and rolling and neither of them caring so long as the other is right there. 

They pull back for air together, which must be more for Bruce’s benefit than for Thor’s because Thor can survive space after all. They’re both grinning, and Bruce moves the hand on Thor’s neck to cradle the back of his head. Instinctively they press their foreheads together. Thor is touchy, Bruce is beyond touch-starved, and of course Thor would be the person to naturally and enthusiastically give him the one thing he needs most. Thor sighs, for the first time with contentment rather than exhaustion. They stay like that for so long, just breathing together. 

“I know things will never be the same for you,” Bruce breathes, because he doesn’t want Thor to think he was waiting for him to shut up to kiss him. “But maybe… you don’t have to go home to be happy. Maybe you just… build a new one wherever you’re standing,” he suggests between heady shared breaths. Thor’s smile softens, from joy to fondness. He strokes Bruce’s cheek with his thumb and in-between breaths he steals another quick kiss.

“Well then,” he says, pointedly gazing into Bruce’s eyes so there can be no mistake of his meaning, “it’s a good thing I like the view from here.”

**Author's Note:**

> I stopped screaming at my friends about thorbruce and started screaming at a document and now? Now we have this thing that grew out of my control and my planned word count.
> 
> EDIT: fsdjhsdffsd oh my god I'm. Too awkward to respond to all the comments that I kept forgetting to reply to but uhhh you guys are? Awesome? And ily and if you ever want to chat thorbruce or send me prompts so I have an excuse to write MORE thorbruce hit me up on tumblr at zarduhasselfrau


End file.
